


Baby - A Tom & Rosie One Shot

by winterisakiller (sparkinside)



Series: Last Minutes &  Lost Evenings [10]
Category: British Actor RPF, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2019-06-06
Packaged: 2020-04-11 16:15:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19113247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparkinside/pseuds/winterisakiller
Summary: She couldn’t seem to wrap her head around it. A mixture of joy, disbelief, and apprehension flooded through her as the reality sank in.





	Baby - A Tom & Rosie One Shot

**Author's Note:**

> This is part 10 of _Last Minutes & Lost Evenings_ and takes place after the events of _Love & Great Buildings_. This idea popped into my head and wouldn’t leave. It’s short and fluffy and I hope you enjoy.

Rosemary stared at the plastic test laying on the bathroom counter. Its digital display with the clear word ‘pregnant’ lay face up. It was the fourth she’d taken that morning. And the fourth positive. She couldn’t seem to wrap her head around it. A mixture of joy, disbelief, and apprehension flooded through her as the reality sank in. Pregnant. Holy mother of god, she was pregnant. A stunned sort of laughter spilled from her throat, shaking her shoulders with its intensity. 

 

If she was being completely honest with herself, Rosemary couldn’t say she was surprised this had happened. She and Tom had been married for nearly two years; two busy but wonderfully happy years and, while they hadn’t been actively trying to get pregnant, they hadn’t been  _ not  _ trying either. Tom had several local productions, both stage and screen, lined up and both locations of  _ Stories Untold _ were taking in a small by tidy profit; they were more than financially sound and could easily support a family if one were to fall in their laps. And, again if she were honest, this was what she’d wanted, what they wanted. This was wonderful news, even if the idea of being someone’s mother.. _.Mother?! _ ...scared the hell out of her. 

 

She was going to be someone’s mother. Another laugh tumbled from her at the throat.  _ I’m going to be a mother… _

 

Her hands automatically went to her lower abdomen, cradling the still relatively flat expanse she found there. She laughed at how ridiculous it felt. But if the test was correct, and given that she had tried three others all with the same result she figured it must be, then there was someone in there now. “Hello baby,” she whispered. “I’m your mummy.”

 

Logically, she knew the next step was to call her GYN and make an appointment to confirm, for certain, that she was actually pregnant and precisely how far along she was. But the only thing she wanted in that moment was Tom. Rosemary pushed herself to her feet and stumbled out of the bathroom and into the brightly lit bedroom. 

 

Her mobile was laying on the end of the bed where she’d tossed it when the alarm had gone off signaling that her last test was ready to be read. With shaking fingers, she picked up the phone and scrolled through her phone book until she came across his name. She hit send and waited, bouncing on the halls of her feet, for the call to connect. It rang once. Then twice. Then three times. 

 

“Rosie, love, is everything alright?” Tom’s voice was warm but an underlying tension echoed in his words. She hardly ever called him when he was on set, unless it was an emergency.  He’d been on night shoots for the last week which made his already frayed nerves so much worse. And here she was calling him, seemingly out of the blue. God, she must have scared him something fierce.

 

“I’m fine!” She blurted out with far more force than she intended. She fought to contain the nervous laughter threatening to spill from her lips. It would only worry Tom further and she couldn’t have that. “Tom, everything’s fine. I just....I have some news...When are you heading home?” She dropped onto the bed, running a hand over her face, trying to control the racing of her heart.

 

They’d been lucky enough that his latest project was filming in and around London, making it possible for Tom to come home to Rosie most nights or with the way his shooting schedule was as of late, technically mornings. While his hours were long and often grueling, being able to have Tom beside her at night (or for a few hours in the morning before she was forced to start her day) and not just as a voice on the phone or an image on her computer screen was something Rosemary cherished. Even if he did tend to hog the covers. All the time. 

 

“News?” Confusion colored his tone and the undercurrent of unease became more prevalent. He was silent for several moments before seeming to find his voice. “I um...We should be wrapping up in the next hour or so. Are you sure you are alright?”

 

Rosemary nodded, then chuckled as she remembered that Tom couldn’t see her. “Yes. I’m alright. I didn’t mean to scare you, I just...I wanted to hear your voice.”

 

Tom let out a soft chuckle of his own. “You will be the death of me, woman.” In the background she could hear yelling and muffled voices. “I’m sorry to have to run, but they need me back on set. I’ll see you in a few hours, alright?”

 

“Alright. I love you, Tom.”

 

“I love you, too.”

 

The phone clicked and Rosemary dropped her chin to her chest, placing her mobile on the bed beside her. Her nerves bloomed once more in her chest.  _ This is ridiculous _ , she told herself.  _ He’s going to be thrilled. Over the moon. There is absolutely no need to feel like this _ . She took a deep breath and pushed herself to her feet. Staying in the bedroom wouldn’t help. She padded quietly downstairs. 

 

Once downstairs, Rosemary found herself puttering around the kitchen, nerves fluttering wildly away in her stomach. Excitement and uncertainty thrummed through her in equal measure. No matter how hard or often she stared at the clock it rarely seemed to move. Bobby was pacing alongside her, letting out occasional soft barks of uncertainty. She whispered nonsensical words of comfort at him, pausing to scratch him on the head and behind the ears. He was a sensitive little soul and she hated that her own anxiety was rubbing off on him. She needed to  _ do _ something and desperately, if only to keep her mind from her nerves. 

 

She’d cleaned most of the lower level a few days before during one of her rare days completely off (and in a pique of boredom) and the housekeeper they still employed (on Tom’s insistence; “We both work a lot. You can’t tell me you don’t like the idea of coming home to an already cleaned home and just be able to relax.”) had come the afternoon before. Rosemary sighed.  _ So much for that idea _ . 

 

Baking came to mind as she wandered into the kitchen, Bobby quick on her heels. It required enough attention to pull her focus out from the internal and if she chose the right recipe not enough to risk disaster.  _ Okay then _ , she reasoned.  _ I can do this _ . The clock on the wall stubbornly informed her that it would still be at least another hour (the useless barely moving thing!) before Tom was home, if things on set went smoothly… _ No, don’t you dare start thinking that! _

 

Mechanically, she pulled the needed materials and ingredients for the lemon drizzle cake that Tom adored from the cabinets and pantry. It was a relatively simple recipe which was all for the best, as her concentration was definitely off.  Bobby, sensing there was food to be had, began stalking her every move around the kitchen, in hopes she would drop something. She laughed and shook her head at his antics. With the way he carried on, one would think they starved the wretched thing. 

 

Rosemary began to hum quietly to herself as her hands maneuvered through the motions of pouring and measuring, which seemed to go some way towards helping her calm. She blended the dry ingredients and set to work mixing them with the wet. Once combined she poured the batter into the greased pan beside her and carried it to the oven to bake, making sure to set the timer (she’d forgotten once and had to toss the cookies, pan and all, she’d been attempting. It was something Tom never let her forget, the ass.) 

 

It didn’t take long for the scent of sugar and lemon and sweetness to fill the kitchen and lower level of the house. And as it did so, Rosemary felt the dual and contradictory sensations of hunger and nausea overwhelm her. It was so sudden and so strange that it took her brain several minutes to process before she darted towards the bathroom and to her knees to dry heave into the toilet.  _ Oh God _ . She sent a furtive prayer that this particular quirk of pregnancy, for now she was in truly little doubt, would fade sooner rather than later. Because she wasn’t sure how long she could live with this if it did not.

 

She had just finished splashing cool water on her face when she heard the familiar and comforting sound of keys in the front door.  _ Tom.  _ Drying her face quickly with a towel she darted from the bathroom and nearly into Tom who’d started calling her name as she rounded the corner. 

 

His arms were around her, steadying her swaying form. “Whoa, love. Steady now.” He smiled softly at her though she could see the concern lurking in his tired eyes. “Are you alright?”

 

Rosemary nodded, not quite trusting herself to speak just yet. She took several deep breaths and smiled softly back. “I’m fine.” She took his hand, pulling him towards the kitchen. “Come have a seat. I’ve made you something.”

 

She could tell by the stiffness with which he allowed himself to be pulled that Tom didn’t quite believe her. And she couldn’t blame him, she was acting oddly, certainly not like herself. She wanted to laugh but knew that would only make Tom’s unease worse. 

 

“You’ve been baking,” Tom spoke, breaking the uneasy silence. Rosemary let out an unexpected nervous laugh at that before composing herself. 

 

“Yes,” she murmured. “It should be ready in another five or so minutes.” She smiled at him, brushing a stray bit of hair behind her ear. The wave of nausea that flooded through her hit with a force she hadn’t expected. Her hand flew to her mouth and without a word, she turned and fled once more into the bathroom. This time the small breakfast she’d had earlier that day made its reappearance. She coughed and gagged, slumping to her side on the cool tile, her head resting against the wall. 

 

Something passed in front of the light, throwing a shadow across her prone form. Rosemary blinked open her eyes to find Tom hovering over her, his eyes full of anxiety.  “Jesus, Rosie! Something is wrong. Tell me. Please.” She waved her hand, begging him to leave, just for a moment. She didn’t want him seeing her like this. It was silly and selfish, but god she must have looked a fright and the thought of him watching her like this made her ridiculously upset. “No,” he stated, his voice firm but not loud. “Not until you tell me what’s going on.”

 

Rosemary pushed herself up into a sitting position, then shakily to her feet. She closed the lid of the toilet before flushing it and sitting down. “This is definitely not the way I envisioned telling you,” she joked with a quiet laugh, hoping to ease Tom’s nerves. The set of his jaw told her she most assuredly had not. She let out a soft sigh. “I’ve been feeling tired for weeks now. Thought it was the flu or something stupid I couldn’t shake. Until Jules made an offhand comment that got me thinking.” She paused and rubbed her temples with her hands. “So I know it’s not the best timing in the world and we didn’t exactly plan for this…”

 

She heard Tom’s quick intake of breath and watched as he scanned her face, a small but definitive hope blooming in his eyes. “Rosie…Are you…?”

 

Unable to speak, she nodded her head a warm smile spreading across her face. Tom pulled her to her feet and tightly against him, kissing her forehead, her hair, her cheek, everywhere he can reach. Rosemary could feel his warm, rich laughter resonating through her as he held her tightly, rocking them both back and forth. She laughed with him, returning his embrace with fervor. 

 

The loud, shrill ring of the oven timer broke them apart. “Shit!” Rosemary swore and darted back off into the kitchen. She grabbed her oven mitts from the counter and pulled out the golden yellow cake from the oven, placing it on the counter near the bowl of lemon sugar drizzle she’d made earlier. Her eyes rose as she heard Tom pad in behind her. “So lemon drizzle?” She offered, gesturing towards the cake. 

 

Tom laughed in earnest. “Buttering me up with pudding?”

 

Rosemary shrugged and pulled off her mitts, placing them on the counter beside her. She turned around to face him. “Well they do say the way to a man’s heart is his stomach, so I figured it couldn’t hurt. Besides, it took my mind of waiting.” 

 

He nodded, walking towards the counter. “Do you know…How far along…?”

 

She offered him a soft smile and reached out to take his hand in her own, squeezing it gently. “If I had to guess about four or five weeks. I still need to make an appointment to find out for sure.” 

 

“But you’re sure?” His eyes were wide and glimmered with the sheen of tears, the smile on his face so wide she thought it would burst.

 

Rosemary nodded. “Yes, Tom. I’m sure.” She laughed softly, raising her free hand to trace along his stubbled cheek. “You’re going to be a daddy.”


End file.
